


pour a little salt you were never here

by gaialux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Community: angst_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ll do it, just this once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pour a little salt you were never here

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ angstbingo square of "just this once".
> 
> Supernatural does not belong to me. This piece of fiction was written for entertainment purposes only, no profit is gained.

They’ll do it, just this once.

Pressed against each other in a indistinguishable motel bed, just the two of them together in the dark.

It’s Dean who moves first, just like always, just like with everything; he grips Sam’s waist and brushes over his hipbone, a sound of “shh” soon following as he works his way down past the elastic of Sam’s boxers.

Sam bucks against him at the contact on his cock, a slow stroke to match Dean’s hand movement. He takes his time, no hurry, it’s a once off and taking a long time doesn’t change anything.

It still means nothing, will always mean nothing, but that doesn’t stop Dean from aligning his mouth with Sam’s ear and whispering, ragged, “C’mon, Sammy, c’mon” and Sam arches up in his hand, sound tearing from his throat as he comes and Dean works him through it, wrist still twisting even after Sam tries to push his hand away.

Eventually he lets him go and, because _once off_ also means _tit for tat_ , it doesn’t take long for Sam to recover and maneuver his way down the bed, dropping kisses first over Dean’s ribs and then his stomach, lingering just above his waistline.

Dean looks down at him and Sam looks up, their eyes locking and Dean doesn’t think it should mean as much to him as he does, that it shouldn’t make his chest hurt and breath catch. It’s a once off, just this once, but he can’t take his eyes away and instead nods, licking his tongue over dry lips. _Yeah, Sammy, yeah_ , _o’course you can_.

Sam breathes warm air over Dean’s skin as he moves the boxers down over his hard cock, shoving the worn-cotton material out of the way. Then Sam doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t take one more second to consider, before taking Dean in his mouth.

Dean throws his head back, staring up at the ceiling that’s shadowed by the soft light coming through the sun-worn curtains of the room. He twists his fingers through Sam’s hair, resting just lightly as Sam’s mouth moves against him, wet and perfect and _fuck_ it’s just this once and it shouldn’t feel so good.

He restrains himself from pushing up into Sam’s mouth and instead on the ceiling and his breathing. He just allows himself little huffs and stilted whimpers that have no right to be there when Sam gently grips at his thighs and rubs circles into the flesh with his thumbs. It’s never been like this with women, and that’s why it’s so bad. That’s why they can only do it _just this once_.

Sam leans down further, making a choked little sound, and for whatever reason that sets Dean off, his hands clenching and unclenching in Sam’s hair as he comes.

When it’s over, when he feels heavy all over, Sam’s mouth moves away from his cock. He drops a kiss on the head and Dean’s hands clench into themselves in reflex, feeling more kisses fall onto his stomach, the centre of his chest, and finally his lips.

When Sam makes eye contact in the almost-dark, Dean swallows harshly and shifts away. That’s enough. It’s over now. They got what they wanted.

He goes over to his own bed and bites down on his bruised lips, holding back the tears that shouldn’t be there, because it’s just this once. Just this once.

 


End file.
